Take Up the Mantle
by chaoticlivi
Summary: Soul gives the Sorting Hat a run for its Galleons, while Maka watches with frustration and interest. Hogwarts AU.


**Note: Hello there! I needed to try this eventually. Next chapters will certainly be longer and less, well, gloomy, but I wanted to set up a premise first.**

* * *

The less-desirable part of her House assignment was that her disgusting father had also been in Gryffindor, while her mother had been in Ravenclaw - but throughout the rest of her family tree, all of which was pure-blooded, Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were plentiful and spread quite evenly on her mother's and father's sides. She supposed she could ignore her father's existence entirely and relate proudly to her mother's sisters instead, so she did not argue when the Hat resolved its self-debate.

Maka joined her House table to friendly applause and a high-five from Black Star. From the Hufflepuff table, Tsubaki also offered a glowing smile and nod, which Maka returned. She sat to eagerly observe everyone else's Sorting - including that of the hyper, enthusiastic girl from King's Cross who absolutely insisted she would be in Slytherin, and the ridiculously sullen, silent boy from the train ride here.

* * *

"You're a tough one," the Hat muttered in Soul's mind. "It's been years since I've met someone so pigheaded about every House."

"I thought it was your job to sort, not commentate," Soul grumbled back internally.

"You do have quite the active mind," said the Hat. "And whether you admit it or not, you're always thinking about music. Ravenclaw would be a wonderful place to nurture your passion…"

"No," Soul hissed. "My family is all so damn obsessed with music, and I won't be one of them."

"Hmm…" the Hat continued as if it did not notice Soul's rudeness. "You've got the passion, and you could have the bravery...maybe Gryffindor could teach you some initiative."

"Absolutely not," Soul said out loud. He heard some tittering from his future classmates.

"Gryffindor truly is a magnificent House."

"Yeah, maybe, but not for me." Soul squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't brave enough to be in the house known for its bravery.

"Well," the Hat said, a hint of irritation in its voice, "perhaps that loyalty could be well-employed in Hufflepuff. Might teach you to...connect with people a bit better."

"I'm not interested in relying on anyone else," Soul said, voice wavering just a little.

"The expectations are low, because people have a bit of a misconception about Hufflepuff," the Hat said, voice gruff. "But it would benefit you greatly. I believe you would be happy there."

"And I believe I wouldn't."

"Ahem," said the Hat almost angrily. "Slytherin could make use of your cunning and guile to teach you some ambition-"

"Slytherins look like a bunch of snobs over there," Soul said. "I don't wanna be any more ambitious, anyway, it's too much work."

Finally, the Hat's voice sputtered in frustration. "There are only four Houses and I have to assign you to one! I always take the students' preferences into consideration, but if I do that in your case, I'm going to have to send you home. Is that what you want, Evans?"

That statement went straight to Soul's heart and turned his blood cold. "No. No, of course not."

"Then let me do my work, and please don't interrupt again unless you're going to be helpful," the Hat growled.

Soul sat in silence, eyes closed for a full five minutes as the Hat mumbled to itself in thought. Just as students were beginning to giggle and Soul thought he might either burn to death from the embarrassment or fall asleep there on the stool, the Hat shouted.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Well, there he had it. A tattered, ratty old hat had just told him to nurture his "passion" for something he was intentionally fleeing. Soul gritted his teeth as he joined his peers (who all looked as uncomfortable as he felt), wondering what he could do with himself to fill the next seven years that wouldn't involve the piano.

He worried that this new world wouldn't be magical in the right ways.

* * *

She couldn't hide her surprise as her mouth dropped open. He had been so _dismissive_ of everything on the train. She knew the stereotype that Ravenclaws were sullen sometimes, of course, but weren't they supposed to care about knowledge? The boy had done nothing but insult her for caring about school (when he hadn't been staring out the window and, she suspected, resenting her for choosing the same train compartment as he and bringing a noisy friend as well).

Maka watched Soul Evans make his way to the Ravenclaw table, where the students - including the Headmaster's mysterious son - welcomed him with a sort of cordial uncertainty. Her curiosity remained through the rest of the Sorting. The enthusiastic girl from King's Cross, Patti Thompson, did indeed get into Slytherin, and her older sister leapt from the table to give her a hug.

_He's not worth worrying about_, she thought on the way to the Gryffindor Common Room. The negativity people like Soul Evans showed was boring, and anyway, he probably wouldn't affect her time here. She would join the Quidditch team, she would get the highest grades, she would become a Prefect...and he could spend his seven years sulking.

He still bothered her, though. She had a feeling there was more to him than she saw.

* * *

This day was just getting worse and worse.

In order to get into his own common room - his own _home_, for all intents and purposes - he was going to have to solve a riddle every single time. His was the only House that did this. What a pain in the ass. None of the other students seemed alarmed by it.

Soul had mixed feelings about the Common Room, too. It was huge and airy; it seemed sort of cold to him, and lacked the coziness he had expected of a place called a Common Room. It was clear from the number of bookshelves filled to the brim with tomes that there were book nerds all over the place. Why hadn't that dweeby girl from the train ended up here? It would have been perfect for her.

On the other hand, the room itself was very beautiful, reminiscent of a castle in the clouds. Out the windows, the entire castle and the grounds of Hogwarts were visible. The setting sun cast a pink and orange glow across the land and forest, and the moon was already a full circle of light, steadily gaining strength.

It was lovely, but he didn't belong here. He wasn't friendly enough for Hufflepuff, wasn't ambitious enough for Slytherin, wasn't brave enough for Gryffindor, wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw. His magical blood had been some kind of mistake. Did reverse-Squibs exist, people with magical blood who were meant to be muggles? Perhaps he would be the first.


End file.
